


When Falling Feels Like Flying

by quiethurricane



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Heavily Lena-Centric, Introspection, Post-S4 Finale, post-reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-17 07:02:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18960259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiethurricane/pseuds/quiethurricane
Summary: "Because it wasn’t the opening of the boxes that broke her, it was the person who opened them." The story of Kara and Lena falling apart and, in time, falling back together.Or, Lena after the reveal.





	When Falling Feels Like Flying

**Author's Note:**

> Buckle up for a wild ride!
> 
> Credit goes to MemesComedy.com for a tweet I used as one of the lines of dialogue (about exercise and kale).

Boxes. She loves her boxes. Her neat, tightly wrapped, immaculate boxes. Her boxes that could be stacked so tightly, like the perfect game of Tetris, before being bathed in the sheer and utter darkness of the recesses of her mind. Behind not one, not two, but three doors. And a few heavy steel walls—brick, she corrects, heart constricting—before that.

 

And yet? It wasn’t enough. Because the Girl of Steel herself is stronger than brick. And concrete and plaster and reinforced polymer. The Girl of Steel punched her way through the walls with ease. It didn’t immediately set off alarm bells, though. Shame on her for not thinking that through when developing her most important security system. And the doors. Oh, Supergirl didn’t punch through the doors. Of course not, those actually had alarms, she scoffs. (Her face must look quite comical to an outsider. Out of place, out of touch, with the actual going-ons in the world.) No, this time around, she treads lightly. She saved her. And caught her. And saved her again. Enough to get past the doors. And as for the boxes? Well, this time, the Girl of Steel came in another form. This time, she was Kara Danvers. Meek, adorkable, intelligent, kind, compassionate,  _ beautiful _ Kara Danvers. She shivers at the words running through her brain. How her rendition of a single word seems to match Kara’s description of her exactly. The same lilt, the same tone. All falling into place. And the reporter turned on all the lights and opened all the windows and dusted off all the cobwebs. She opened boxes with a stealth Lena knows was never intended—she really can’t lie for anything...how did she not know? Shaking her head and ignoring the concerned looks from her new assistant, she continues her spiral. Kara opened the floodgates, the emotions she was never allowed to express, then the emotions she chose never to express, with Big Belly Burger and “Always” and hugs that warmed her to her very core. With trust and hope and  _ love _ . And just like that, her fortress was destroyed.

 

She sucks in a harsh breath. At the stares from the rest of the boardroom, she quickly excuses herself to her office. This is child’s play anyway. It was only her checking in, a surprise evaluation so to speak. Or, if she was being completely honest, a desperate plea to be forced out of her head. 

 

Once back in her office, she droops down into her chair. Not the couch. No, there are too many memories there. Too many memories everywhere, if she’s being honest. The chair is her safest bet. The least menacing from a memory-perspective and the most powerful from a feelings-perspective. In other words, it’s the best she’s got.

 

But the separation, the locking herself in a new tower, an impenetrable tower this time, is not enough. Boxes come undone. And although at first she thought it would be fine, that she could handle it, that this was  _ Kara  _ and Kara would never hurt her, she was wrong. Because it wasn’t the opening of the boxes that broke her, it was the person who opened them. And now all that’s left is a mess of everything on the floor waiting to be sorted. A broken heart, bleeding all over it. And a friend doing the same thing to her life outside of her head. 

 

It’s too much. It is all too much. She doesn’t know how she’ll survive it.

 

* * *

 

 

Twenty-two hours. Twenty-two hours since she found out. Eighteen since that heart-shredding game night. A game night where, under normal circumstances, would have filled her stomach with butterflies and made her heart feel like bursting. Because yes they switched up the teams, but Kara was still on her team. Kara wanted to be on her team. Kara was always on her team. Because Kara smiled at her so tenderly and cheered when she walked through the door. Because Kara wrapped her arm around her shoulders and leaned her head on hers. Because Kara looked amazing and soft and vulnerable in that dark red cardigan. Except that wasn’t what happened. Because all she felt was grief. And anger. And hurt. And resentment. She felt humiliated. She felt lost. She felt lonely in a sea of people: strangers who were once her family. 

 

But, regardless, she sees Kara eighteen hours after that. Bearing a lunch she didn’t ask for (not that Kara really ever asked in the entire history of their friendship— “It’s like in the movies, Lena! When everyone just goes out or hangs out because they’re best friends. No plans necessary.” Lena had found it endearing at the time. Now, it just makes her sad.) and a smile on her face.

 

“I brought lunch,” she says.

 

Lena barely glances up. “I see that.” 

 

It’s dry, cool even, but Kara doesn’t seem to get the memo. “Are you too busy to stop for lunch?” she asks. 

 

Lena sighs, deep in a way that hurts as she expels the breath she’s been holding. “It’s Saturday, Kara.”

 

She peeks up just enough to see Kara’s brows furrow beneath her glasses. She curses herself again. Yet another blatant sign that Kara is Supergirl and Supergirl is Kara. The furrowed brows. 

 

“I know,” Kara begins slowly. “But I also know you’re a crazy workaholic,” she jokes. “And you’re typing on your laptop like the end of the world is near.” She shrugs. “I figured you were busy with a project.”

 

She sighs again, this time in an attempt to school her heartbeat. Looking up, Lena meets Kara’s eyes. It’s the first time she notices the trepidation there. A part of her feels vindicated in that fact, satisfied. But another part, admittedly right now a smaller part, feels guilty for it. The pain she’s feeling wins out.

 

“More of a presentation.”

 

“Oh, can I see it?” Kara’s eyes light up with excitement. She feels a little bad about that.

 

“Not right now,” she says, quieter this time. 

 

“Okay.” Kara smiles. “Maybe when you’re finished with it?”

 

“Maybe,” Lena concedes. 

 

Kara stands awkwardly for a moment. Then two. Then three. “So...lunch?” She holds up the bag with an uneasy smile.

 

Pursing her lips, Lena nods tightly. “Sure.”

 

She abandons her seat at the kitchen island to move to the couch. “How’d you get in here, anyway?”

 

“Dave let me in.” Lena nods. Kara had become fast friends with her doorman. And in all the hubbub she definitely forgot to revoke access privileges. She shudders, feeling as if she’s slipping. She was right: one instance of letting her guard down and everything would go wrong. “And you gave me a key…” she adds, stumbling ever so slightly over her words.

 

Right...the key to her door, the key to her heart, too.

 

“Wait, Lena!” Lena stops quickly, momentarily worried for some Lex-inspired contraption waiting for her. “Sorry,” Kara says with a blush dusting her cheeks. “I didn’t mean to alarm you and given everything that’s hap—” she breaks, turning away, “Just...your couch is really nice. Shouldn’t we eat somewhere else?” Kara thinks that of the few times she’s been here, they’ve never had anything to eat on the couch. Everything in her apartment is so pristine, just breathing in it makes her feel nervous sometimes.

 

Lena sits down gingerly. “It’ll be fine.” She pulls out a few napkins and coasters. “We do it at work all the time.” Kara nods before sitting down. “Wouldn’t be the first time something’s been spilled anyway,” she digs. “Ruined,” she adds quietly, bitterly. It isn’t until she hears the hitch in Kara’s breath that she remembers the superhearing. Funny, how quickly boxes can be taped back together, personas separated like an unwinding ball of string. And again, funny how quickly they can fall back apart.

 

“Did I do something?” Kara whispers. It sounds broken, dejected even. And confused. So confused. Lena’s heart hurts. But, even more than that, Lena’s heart skips a beat at the fact that she didn’t put it on her. She didn’t ask why Lena was acting in such a way or why she was upset or why she had a tone. No, Kara would never do anything like that.

 

Lena releases a shaky breath. “No, it’s fine,” she ekes out, looking down at her lap. Feeling the need to fiddle with her thumbs, she grabs the bag of food instead. “You got enough to feed an army,” she says, hoping the painful reminder of why Kara needs so much food doesn’t seep into her voice.

 

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Kara’s expression relax slightly. Her eyes are still squinting a bit. Something must be bothering her, Lena thinks, for her to not press. Her best friend is by no means a confrontational person, but she’s a worrier. When Lena’s upset, she’ll try to comfort her. But right now, Kara seems to let it slide. Lena doesn’t know whether to be even more hurt or simply grateful. She goes with the latter given the fact that she thinks she’s met her emotional quota for the time being.

 

“Nia and Brainy said hi,” Kara says around a mouthful of pad thai. It’s not lost on Lena that Kara avoided the question. “They were on their way to play laser tag. Nia, apparently, loves it.”

 

Lena smiles ever so slightly. “And Brainy?”

 

“Hopelessly in love so he’d do just about anything she wanted.” Kara shakes her head with a fond smile firmly in place.

 

“Must be nice,” Lena ventures darkly, “to love someone so much. To trust them enough to love them back.”

 

She sees Kara’s eyes harden, then fill with unshed tears. “How are you doing? With...everything?”

 

Lena tenses. “I know you mean Lex.” She meets Kara’s eyes, this time while hers are cold and calculating. She sees Kara’s brows furrow once more. “But I knew the end was near. I knew he would be subdued. By someone. Anyone. He was mad.” She looks to the ceiling. “Now, with him, I learned a long time ago that he was going to betray me. He didn’t really love me. I denied it. I hoped against it. But deep down I knew that our relationship would never end well. I resigned myself to that fate.”

 

Kara reaches out, placing a warmer-than-humanly-probable hand on her shaking wrist. “Still—”

She stops when Lena shakes her off. 

 

“What I didn’t expect was you.” She sniffles but maintains a hard jaw. 

 

“Me?” Kara whispers. She thinks she hears panic in her voice.

 

“Yes, you.” She breathes out. “Lex told me, you know. Who you are. How everyone knew but me. How you lied. How I was a fool.”

 

“You’re not—”

 

“Save it.” Emerald orbs finally make contact with the sea once more. It reminds her of a siren call. Lures you in before destroying you beyond repair. 

 

“Today. I wanted to—”

 

“—I think you should go.” Lena’s words are sharp, crisp. Business. This is now business. For business can be handled. Business can be sorted. Business can be buried. When Kara doesn’t show any signs of moving, Lena turns her back. “Now, Kara.”

 

It takes another hour before she turns, stands, and locks the door behind her. 

Address: 316 Yorke Avenue, Elberon NJ 0

 

* * *

 

 

Two weeks later, she finally gets a good night’s sleep. No tossing or turning for hours. No nightmares causing her to shoot up, gasping for breath, in the middle of the night. No trying to sleep with the lights on because being in the dark, being alone, being left with her thoughts and shoddy security is all too much. 

 

She feels clearer the next day, her brain a little less foggy. It’s as if a lack of sleep if actually bad for your health and overall wellbeing. She takes her time that morning. Sips her coffee on the balcony, actually reminds herself to eat breakfast, reads a little  _ Digital Spy _ , her dorky pleasure. The feelings follow through with work as she breathes carefully through every problem. As she uses the grounding trick Kelly taught her last week. She gets a lot done and actually feels accomplished enough to go home at a decent hour. 

 

And as she eats her dinner on the balcony, she smiles. Smiles because the air is crisp and fresh, the sky bright and clear. Laughs when the breeze picks up and her napkin and it goes hurdling over the railing.  _ Drop something? _ The words tickle at the back of her mind (she’s tidied up back there), but for the first time, the pain feels lighter. She doesn’t feel like she’s drowning without ever agreeing to go swimming. It hurts but more of a bee sting than a mortal wound kind of hurt. 

 

“It’s okay to feel that way.” Kelly sits across from her, bent forward and hands clasped atop her knees. “Just because you kept secrets doesn’t mean you can’t still feel hurt.”

 

Lena wraps her arms tighter around her stomach. She didn’t tell Kelly what secret exactly, she would still never do that to Kara, no matter the circumstances, but it’s nice to be able to talk to someone. Someone who understands more than most. “But doesn’t that make me a hypocrite?”

 

Kelly shoots her a tiny smile. “Feelings are feelings. Whatever you’re feeling is valid.” She sits up straighter, regarding Lena with warm eyes. “Are feelings always rational? Well, no.” She chuckles. “If they were, the world would be a very different place.”

 

“A better place.”

 

Kelly tilts her head. “I’m not so sure I agree with you on that.” When Lena meets her eyes, she continues. “Humans aren’t machines. Machines are logical, rational, all the time. People aren’t like that. We feel. We feel things deeply. We’re vulnerable. We can be a mess. But that’s  _ okay _ . There’s nothing wrong with it.”

 

Lena lets out a shuddering breath. “I grew up always thinking, always being told,” she corrects, “that emotion makes you weak.  _ Caring _ makes you weak.” She hopes the purposeful exchange from loving to caring goes undetected, but the knowing glint in Kelly’s eyes proves otherwise.

 

“As I said, they make us vulnerable. They make us more susceptible to pain. But they also make us vulnerable for love and happiness and joy. They open up relationships and successes and finding out who you’re meant to be.” Slowly so that Lena can pull away if she wants to, she leans forward and places a hand on her arm. “You don’t have to be afraid to feel.” She sits up once more. “Supergirl hurt you. And pretty badly at that.” Lena nods. “And Lex exacerbated that.” She nods again. “It’s okay to hurt.”

 

“But in the past—” 

 

“—Look,” Kelly cuts off gently. “I know I’m a therapist and I’m not supposed to stop you from speaking. But I’m going to do it this once.”

 

“Once?” Lena jokes as Kelly rolls her eyes goodnaturedly.

 

“Like I said, I’m breaking the rules this time. Is it maybe a little hypocritical? Yeah. I don’t know. I don’t know what secrets you or Supergirl were keeping. Could she have had her reasons, just like you had yours? Most likely. People don’t generally do things for no reason. But could those reasons have hurt you? Yes. Could it still hurt even if the reasons behind them were noble? Absolutely.” She watches as Lena sits up a little straighter. “What I’m saying is that there are two sides to every story and one side does not invalidate the other. You can feel what you feel and you can hurt and cry and scream no matter what else has happened. It’s  _ okay _ .”

 

Lena sniffles, holding her body tightly as if that will contain her tears (it doesn’t). “And that happiness?”

 

“I have no doubt that you’ll find it. You deserve happiness, Lena.” Kelly smiles brightly. “And allowing yourself to process this and to be vulnerable and to feel what you feel will only get you to a better place.” She hands Lena the box of tissues. “Now,” she looks at the clock to check to make sure there is enough time to dig deeper, “let’s talk about Lex.”

 

* * *

 

 

“But this is not the end. This is a new beginning.” She stands tall at her glass podium, smiling out at an audience that is neither angry nor happy. They simply...are. It’s better than riots after Lex, she supposes. “Unlike in the past, this campaign will not be a movement to repay my brother’s debts. He doesn’t deserve something so kind.” She takes a deep breath as all eyes seem to pierce through her thin veneer of composure at the mention of her brother. Still, she powers on. “It is, instead, a campaign built for the future. A brighter, more compassionate future. Where neighbors treat others as neighbors and where hope is a gift to all.” She sees people smile and a few even cheer. It will be a process, she knows, getting people to trust her again. Yet again, nothing of her own doing. Just the curse of her family name. But what really stands out to her is the glimpse of a perky blonde ponytail and sharp black glasses.  _ Now you have someone who will stand up for you, always.  _ Kara hasn’t spoken to her since their fight, hasn’t texted or called since she asked for space. But even now she knows that Kara has never left her. She sees the extra loop Kara does around her block. She sees the subtle ways Kara’s friends—Kara’s family—check up on her without saying a word, trying to be discrete. She sees the bouquets of plumerias on Kara’s desk every time she walks past. Kara is never there, of course, she makes sure of it. A part of her wonders if Kara plays her part in it, too, always making sure she’s out of sight when Lena is at Catco. Then again, she’s rarely at Catco anymore. She even considered selling it when everything fell apart. But that seemed to be a nail in the coffin she just couldn’t handle yet. And besides, it’s a bad business decision. People would wonder why and she doesn’t want anyone digging to find out that she truly bought it for Kara, nothing more.  _ I’m always going to be here for you. _ She allows herself to feel calm,  _ whole _ for a moment. Kara came. Of course, Kara came.

 

From that day on, she’s been slammed with work. Proposals, projects, television appearances. Rebranding is an awful lot of work. Worth it, just time-consuming. She’s caught up in the whirlwind when a seemingly decrepit form comes across her desk. A proposal for an article. And for the first time, she stops. She stops shuffling, stops moving forward, stops organizing and planning and mentally tinkering. She stops because this isn’t a request from Catco. And, truth be told, she’s always gotten requests from other publications even after her purchase of Catco, but she’s always declined. There has only ever been one reporter that she has trusted.  _ We’re always on the same side.  _ And that reporter has not submitted anything to her. In fact, no one at Catco has. Maybe I should invite someone, she muses.

 

Her heart starts to thunder at the thought. Could she really do that? Well, she could. But would she? Before she can double guess herself, she texts a familiar face. “Would you do an article for me?” There are no pleasantries, no hi, no heart, but it’s a start. And if the resounding text complete with several emojis and exclamation points is anything to go by, Kara sees it for what it is, too.  _ I will always be your friend. _

 

* * *

 

 

Their first meeting is...awkward...to say the least. Their other interviews were smoother because they knew each other so well. Not that she’d admit it, but most of the articles were made up of quotes she had said in passing or feelings she’d expressed but not quite so eloquently. They never really did too many real interviews. Too many real “on the record” things. Kara just sent her the proofs before she submitted them to Snapper. It was, for the most part, a ruse. A ruse to have lunch together. To go to a conference together. To  _ be  _ together.

 

This one...not so much. Kara stumbles over her words and Lena struggles to say enough but not too much. She’s stilted in a way so unlike her, fighting against her brain sending off warning signals left and right. It’s hard to form coherent sentences over the sound of blaring sirens. Kara also seems to be at a loss. Her text was enthusiastic so she knows the behavior is not out of pity or anger at their distance. However, it isn’t until Kara bids a strangled goodbye, leaning in for a hug that she just barely stops herself from, wrapping her arms around her center and ducking her head down, that Lena realizes. As the door to her office closes, Lena realizes that it comes from a place of pain. From having lost everything and being scared at the prospect of getting it back only to lose it again. Or, even worse, never getting it back at all. She’s struggled with the same emotions ever since she found out.

 

And for a moment, she can’t catch her breath. It feels like she’s drowning again. Only this time, it doesn’t come from being excluded from one of the most crucial details of her best friend’s life. No. This time, it comes from a place of mutual understanding. Yes, of the pain they have both endured. But also of the happiness they’ve shared, the memories they’ve fostered, the times they’ve believed in each other above all else. She feels lost in a moment of panic because it’s been weeks that she’s missed out on this. Missed out on Kara. Yes, it was awkward and painful and no, she doesn’t think she did the wrong thing by allowing herself time (maybe therapy is actually giving her some better coping skills), but...still. To know someone like you know the back of your hand and to love someone in a way that makes falling feel like flying. It’s liberating. It’s astounding. It’s what fills hearts up with hope.

 

She’s not quite sure, she doesn’t know if she ever will be given her history, but maybe this is what Kelly was talking about when she said there’s more to being vulnerable than getting hurt.

 

She texts Kara that night. 

 

* * *

 

 

“Thanks for coming,” Kara says as Lena stands stiffly at the door of Kara’s apartment.

 

“I asked to come,” she bristles. Letting out a sigh, her shoulders sagging because she didn’t reach out to come out defensive, she starts again. “Thanks for having me over.”

  
Kara gives her a pained smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. She knows it’s guilt though. Not annoyance as she would’ve once worried. “It’s the least I could do.” She opens the door wider, beckoning Lena inside. “Besides, you know I love having you here.” Lena’s heart beats a little more quickly. But it’s good this time. Better this time. “Do you want something to drink?”

 

“I brought wine.” She lifts the bag a little higher as she walks through the door. Setting it on the counter, she chuckles. “You know, the last time I brought wine to a party, I wanted to hit you over the head with it.”

 

Kara pauses, looking up from where she had, apparently, grabbed a handful of chips set out in a bowl on her kitchen counter. “Really?” she asks, mouth full.

 

She nods, eyes wide, eyebrows raised. “I wouldn’t have actually done it. But I considered it.” 

 

Kara nods, swallowing. “I guess I deserved that.” 

 

Lena places her hand on her shoulder. “Hey, I was serious about wanting us to be friends again.” She squeezes lightly. At least now she understands the muscle her why-do-you-say-hurtful-things-like-let’s-exercise-and-eat-kale friend seemed to foster naturally. “I’m sorry to bring it up.”

 

Kara grins. “No, I get it.” She chuckles. “I really did deserve it.” 

 

“Well—” she trails off.

 

“Lena!” Kara gasps, hand over her heart is faux exasperation. It only causes them both to dissolve into a fit of giggles. It feels good, Lena decides, to be with her friend again. To fall into old habits. It doesn’t really sting anymore. Sometimes, sure. She thinks there are some things she’ll still need time for, but overall, it doesn’t hurt. And she doesn’t feel numb and cold either. She just feels...peace. Like her brain can finally stop trying to figure out the missing pieces. Why she always had the nagging feeling that things weren’t adding up. And, after the reveal, the nagging feeling that she was unwanted and the laughingstock of her makeshift family.

 

“So,” Lena begins when they finally catch their breaths, “I see you’re prepared for tonight.” She gestures to the countertop decked out in every junk food she can think of. Chips, popcorn, cookies, candy, and...are those kale chips? 

 

Kara, following her line of sight, nods despite Lena not saying a word. “The perfect movie night feast.” She smiles, proud of herself. “I even added a few healthy options.”

 

“I can’t believe there’s kale in your house.”

 

“Well, you like it,” she says softly, meeting Lena’s eyes. Before things can become too intimate, Kara shakes her head and looks away. “And there’s more!” She skips—yes, skips—over to her refrigerator and pulls out a veggie platter, fruit platter, and hummus dish. She shuffles them onto the counter one by one with only one comment about how she would’ve made a great waitress during her college years.  _ Think of the tips, Lena!  _

 

“What in the world?” Lena asks.

 

“I realized that a lot of the time, most of the time if I’m being honest, is about what I want to do or what I like. So I wanted to change that.” She adjusts her glasses self-consciously. “No time like the present, right?”

 

“Why are you still wearing your glasses?” she asks, momentarily distracted. “Now that I know.”

 

“Oh, that,” Kara messes with them again, shuffling her feet. It’s in moments like these that she looks so small, so  _ human _ , that Lena almost gets how she missed this for so long. “I keep them on, sometimes. They help with the noise and the seeing through walls thing.” At the tilt of Lena’s head, she continues. “The frames are lined with lead. Jeremiah, my foster dad, Alex’s dad,” she rambles and Lena smiles, “made them for me to help me fit in. I also think he wanted to kind of break the connection between Kara Danvers and Alex’s strange new foster sister who saved a bunch of people from a crash but...it helps.” Lena has so many questions, but she stays quiet. “Anyway, the lead dampens my powers. I can’t see through walls while wearing them. Which is a plus because I’ve x-rayed rooms before and the things people do…” she grimaces and Lena has to laugh. “Hey, it is a traumatizing experience!” 

 

“I’m sure it is,” Lena laughs.

 

“Moving on.” Kara gives her a fake glare. “It also helps with my superhearing. It doesn’t eliminate it completely, but it makes it easier to focus on what’s right in front of me. Instead of hearing the couple who argues every night on the outskirts of the city, I only hear around the neighborhood. And I’ve gotten better at tuning things out over the years, so less than that if I really try.” When she finishes and finally looks up, she sees Lena staring at her. “What?”

 

Lena’s eyes are a strange combination of sad and awed. She doesn’t know what to make of it. “I just never realized how difficult things are for you, every day, being an alien.” She says it softly for she doesn’t mean for the word to be taken negatively. Kara’s unchanging expression tells her that the message was received intact.  _ I feel the weight of the world on my shoulders. _

 

Kara shrugs, giving that smile she always gives when she’s trying to brush something off. “I want to say you get used to it. I just don’t know if that’s true. I was so happy when I found my mom and this little piece of home, saved from the explosion. To walk around without powers. To just be...normal.” She takes a deep breath. “Maybe this feeling will go away. Either way, I know that it does get better. I’d ask Clark how he deals with it but he’s lived his entire life with powers. There is no other normal for him. For me...I spent so much of my life without them, I don’t know if I can ever fully adjust to them.” Lena wants to push. There is so much waiting to be unpacked in just a few sentences, so many questions she has, things she never knew (and of course Clark Kent is Superman, of course), but the doorbell interrupts her. 

 

She’s still lost in her head by the time it takes Kara to come back with the food. That is until she sees the mountain settled in her arms. “What in the world?” she repeats.

 

“Pizza and potstickers and salad and breadsticks!” Lena already feels slightly queasy from the sheer amount of food—both in Kara’s arms and spread along the counter—but she can’t bear to say anything to wipe the proud grin from her best friend’s face. 

 

“What movie will go with all this food?” Lena asks with a smirk upon her lips.

 

“Your choice,” Kara says around a mouthful of popcorn.

 

“Hmm,” she ponders, “we could watch the live-action remake—”

 

“Oh Rao, yes!” Kara squeals before she can even get it all out. “This is why I love you.” She leans in for a quick, spur-of-the-moment hug before she jumps back. It seems to have been too quick for Kara to question it and Lena is actually grateful for that. It seems normal, calm, nice. 

 

“Then we really need all the food over there.”

  
“How—” Her question is answered as Kara uses her superspeed to get everything into the living room. Okay, so this is what it’s like for everything to be out in the open. Of course, Kara would use her powers for silly, trivial things. It makes it all the more lighthearted, she thinks.

 

“It is all queued up,” Kara reports, sitting down and patting for Lena to sit next to her. “I’m glad it didn’t take too long for all the streaming services to pick it up.”

 

“They do make money off it, Kara. They wouldn’t wait forever.” Kara squints as if she never really thought of that before and then hands Lena a paper plate. “Let’s do this thing.”

 

By the end of the movie, Lena is feeling uncomfortably full and Kara has just about polished off the remnants of their spread. Even so, she feels light. Free, even. “You’ve been holding out on me,” Lena says with a chuckle as Kara licks her fingers clean (she follows with a napkin and wipes at Lena’s insistence). Kara blushes. Few people know how much her metabolism really drives her crazy and how much she actually does curb it in public or with company. But Lena’s not just anyone. 

 

“So whaddya think?” Kara asks. 

 

“Of the movie, the food, or our first time hanging out again?” Lena leans back against the arm of the couch, pulling the throw closer to her chin.

 

Kara pauses, mulling it over. “I meant the movie.”

 

“But now that I’ve mentioned it—”

 

“—Our first night together is the more important question.”

 

Lena nods slowly. “It felt normal again.”

 

“Same here.”

 

“And I love that,” she admits.

 

“Me, too.” Kara leans against the other end of the sofa. Still, she tugs up the rest of the throw, giggling as Lena barely lets her have any of it.  _ You’re a frickin’ heater anyway!  _ “But…” she trails off, knowing Lena has more to say. 

 

Lena sighs, sinking down a bit. “But,” she begins, “there’s still...in the back of my head…” she starts over again, “I don’t know…”

 

“Why I did what I did. Or didn’t do,” Kara’s head nods in that way she does, furrowed brows and all. Lena simply nods in agreement. “So is it okay if I explain? I know this was a night meant to be like old times…”

 

“But old times dictates we wouldn’t leave the other feeling sad or confused.”

 

Kara grins despite the sad look in her eyes. “Yes.” She takes a deep breath. “Okay, so where do I begin?” She looks up at the ceiling. Lena thinks she’s trying to hold back tears but she can’t be sure. So many of the times she’s been with Kara, Kara has been a ray of sunshine. Never the one to complain. The one to cry. She guesses the tables are turning. “I’ll start with lying to you.” She figures Kara sees no point in sugarcoating it now, no point in making her look better. Her humility is honorable, although sad. “At first I lied because I don’t go around telling everyone I’ve just met.”

 

Lena shrugs, a little pep in it. “Flew here on a bus,” she teases.

 

“Enough.” It is enough to make Kara crack a smile though. “Intentionally,” she emphasizes. “Although, to be honest, I wanted to tell you pretty soon after that. Embarrassingly so.” At Lena’s look of disappointment, she hastens to correct herself. “Not because of you! Never.” Lena meets her eyes. “Because I know it’s dangerous to tell people. And I hadn’t really told anyone before. Alex always knew. Clark told James. I told Winn but mostly because I needed someone to be happy for me coming out as Supergirl. Alex was mad about that but she literally would’ve died,” Kara rambles.

 

“Kara,” Lena places her hand atop her that of friend’s. “Breathe. It’s okay. There’s no rush.”

 

She takes a deep breath in sync with Lena’s. “Sorry. I just don’t talk about this a lot.” It goes unsaid that her life as an alien outside of the DEO, her first life, is not often discussed. But Lena gets it. She gets keeping a lid on things.

 

“Must be lonely.”

 

“I wouldn’t want people to feel bad. To think I don’t like it here.”

 

“I used to feel the same way talking about Lex. How he used to be.”

 

Kara nods. “I am sorry for Lex.”

 

“It was inevitable.” Lena sighs. 

 

“I’m sure it still hurts.”

 

“It does.” She’s learning she doesn’t have to hide it. Her emotions are hers and hers alone. “But that’s a discussion for another time.”

 

“Right,” Kara says with a nod. “So anyway, I don’t tell people. Most of the time, I’m never given the chance.” Lena watches as Kara cringes, undoubtedly thinking of her reveal to Lena. “So it was unusual. I barely knew you. After that, when we kept getting closer and I kept asking to tell you, I was denied. DEO secrets and it’s a secret identity for a reason and all that. Makes sense. It puts people in danger and you were already in near constant danger. Not that you helped that with your lack of care for your own life.” Kara reaches out to wack lovingly at her knee. 

 

Lena only rolls her eyes. “You’re being dramatic.”

 

Kara gives her a deadpan look. “Look who’s talking.” She shakes her head to get herself back on track. “So we kept getting closer. And the closer we got, the harder it was to tell you. Because everyone betrayed you and lied to you and I didn’t want to be another one of those people.”

 

“So you continued to be one of those people?” Lena’s voice is sharp, not that Kara can blame her for it, but it still causes her heart to constrict.

 

“Yes. And it was cruel and selfish of me to do so. Lillian told me she would never tell you who I was because one day you’d find out on your own and you’d hate me for it.” (She doesn’t mention that that statement alone sent her into a week-long spiral.) Lena shudders at both the implication that her mother knew all along and how she used the same words she once used on her toward Kara. “After that, I was just scared. Of course, you’d hate me. You’d want nothing to do with me even. And it was all my fault. You never wanting to speak to me again would be completely justifiable.” It’s quiet, but Kara still hears the barely perceptible,   _ I could never really hate you.  _ It gives her the courage to continue. “So I kept hiding. And it was like knives digging into my skin—if only you knew how many times Alex had to talk me off the ledge about you not knowing—but it was also nice. Because you liked me for me. You never saw me as a hero. I mean, sure, it hurt when you didn’t want to be friends with Supergirl.”

 

“That’s why you looked so upset!” Lena sits up quickly.

 

She chuckles darkly. “Yeah. That’s why Supergirl cared.” She wipes away a tear. “But I liked being almost human with you. That you liked me for me. Not because of what the sun makes me able to do. Not for being some ideal. For being a real person. A person who doesn’t have the weight of the world on her shoulders day in and day out. I was allowed to be a mess.”

 

It’s Lena’s turn to sniffle. “That’s how you felt?” She reaches out to hold Kara’s shaking hand. “You felt safe enough to be that with me?”

 

“Always.” Kara says it without thinking, straight from the heart. It’s the truth. “There’s more,” she laughs lightly. Lena nods, giving her space. She doesn’t know if Kara’s relieved or disappointed at the loss of her touch. Maybe a little bit of both. “You know, I was a wreck when you said I wasn’t there for you. That Alex was. Supergirl was. I sat at Catco staring at the last picture I had of us together.” Lena’s breath hitches. Maybe...She shakes her head. “Shortly after that, I decided to tell you. Whether or not you hated me for it. I told James that after Lex was in prison, I’d tell you.” Lena's mouth drops open slightly. “Yeah,” Kara nods in agreement, “so close. I, apparently, was just asking for someone other than me to tell you.” 

 

“Hey, no,” Lena says. Her movements are still jerky from frustration, but they’re filled with hope, too. “No one had any right to take that away from you.”

 

Kara grimaces. “It’s okay. You can be mad. I wouldn’t blame you.” She shakes her head. “I was going to tell you on game night, too, but Alex said you’d dealt with enough for one day.”

 

“I wasn’t mad. I was furious.” Kara stops at that. Sputters, too. Lena feels bad, just a bit, but she needs to get this out. “You lied to me just like everyone else. My sociopath brother had to be the one to tell me. I was mad. I smashed a picture frame. I wanted to hate you.” Kara remains silent but her pleading eyes seem to scream,  _ Wanted to? _ “Yes, I wanted to. I couldn’t. Not permanently, anyway.” Softer, she says, “I care about you too much. I missed you.” Kara’s eyes shine. “I’m still a little angry.” Kara nods. “And still a little hurt.” She nods again. “But thank you for telling me.”

 

“I’m sorry, Lena. So, so sorry for putting you through this. I was selfish and, and awful.”

 

“You know, you’ve called yourself selfish a lot tonight.” She says in lieu of offering forgiveness. “Why is that?”

 

It’s enough of a turnaround that Kara has to think. She takes her time, and Lena lets her, until finally, she mumbles, “I don’t usually think of myself as a selfish person. I’m not always right, but I try to not choose things for selfish reasons. But from the moment I met you, it was always different. I wanted to keep you in whatever way I could. I didn’t want to lose you. I’d never let people interrupt our lunches,” she says with a small grin. Lena laughs. That was always a funny sight to see. “I’d make time just to see you without anyone else.” Kara thinks some more. “I’d risk the entire city rather than risk seeing you get hurt.”

 

“The plane and the chemicals,” Lena murmurs. 

 

Kara’s blue orbs meet green ones that shine from unshed tears. “Yeah. I was selfish.” Kara shrugs. “And with everything coming to light, I’ve noticed just how selfish I’ve been to you and...with you.” She stumbles a bit on the final words yet they ring just as loudly in Lena’s heart.

 

“I’m still hurt,” Lena says in response.

 

“I know.” She moves to curl under Kara’s warm, strong embrace. “But you’re with me right?” The words, so familiar and so kind, so broken and so fragile, melt the last of her defenses. 

 

“Always.” And this time? She truly means it. More than she ever thought possible. “And Kara?” At the sound of Kara’s quiet hum of pleasure, she continues. “Loving someone is probably one of the least selfish things you could ever do.”

 

* * *

 

 

They fall back together easily, more easily than either ever expected. It’s almost like the entire universe couldn’t fathom them being apart. They’re magnets, two ends of the same string. They fit. 

 

“I’m ready,” Lena announces one bright Saturday morning after a breakfast so sugar-filled she’s hesitant to even label it as such.

 

Kara, after drying the last of the dishes, turns around. “What?”

 

“I’m ready to know more. About Krypton.” If Kara deflates ever so slightly, Lena doesn’t seem to take notice. Or, at the very least, knows better than to comment on it.

 

“Oh,” Kara says, “what do you want to know?”

 

“Everything.”

 

Kara giggles. “That’s going to take a lot of time.”

 

“I’m not going anywhere.”

 

And true to her word, she stays put. She stays as Kara gets into her stories, brightening up. She stays for her cries for a planet lost to time and space. She stays for her rendition of escaping Krypton, her mission, her ode to baby Kal-El. She stays for amazing theories and science and maths that make her realize how Kara is even more brilliant than she ever thought (and she always thought very highly of her). 

 

And once they reach the end? When there are still more stories, but they’re tired and comfortable and ready to curl up with a nice movie because they have time,  _ they have more time _ , she stays for the gentle touch of Kara’s lips to hers.

 

With fireworks in her chest and a slow, steady warmth pulsating through her body, she murmurs, “It only took you three years.” She leans her forehead against hers. “I’ve been waiting so long.”

 

Kara’s answering smile looks like it’s crafted by the sun of Rao himself. “The timing wasn’t right.” Mentions of secrets and pain and hurt are left unspoken.

 

“And now?”

 

She moves closer, just slightly. Enough so that her breath tickles Lena’s sensitive lips. “I’m done waiting for the timing to be right. Ever.” Her eyes shine brightly. “This felt right. It felt  _ perfect _ . And now that I’ve done it, I can’t imagine going back.” She pulls back slightly. “If that’s alright with you…” she trails off.

 

“Always.” And their second kiss is even better than their first.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so wow, this turned out to be much longer than expected. I had a lot of feelings after the finale.
> 
> I'd love to hear your thoughts about the fic and/or the show itself! 💙 I’m also on tumblr as a hopefulkindofpain...


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